Yorktown: Katana Krieger #1 (10 page)

"Definite laser hit, jump engine swallowed the power, but barely. Power at 93% of maximum breaker capacity." I'd say something, but I'll hold it til I get a private moment. Garcia only hit two of the jump engines, and it almost killed us.
"Jump engines to standby. Rotate 180 degrees, put our starboard broadside on them. McAdams target
Orion
."
The world appears once again in our screens,
Orion
just where she was. We're done with our rotation.
"Mr. McAdams..." I don't get the rest out,
Yorktown
shudders, harder this time. Tricky bastards. I assumed they had fired both remaining cannons at us, but in reality they fired one holding the last to fire when we presented, knowing we couldn't tell behind the jump shield. Sun Tzu would be proud.
My damage screen is a mess.
"Six starboard hull breaches, inner hull holding, cannon 10 disabled. Landing ship open to space." Jordan's summary is not good.
We can take one, maybe two more of those, and the inner hull is going to go. The landing ship, attached to
Yorktown
's starboard side, is dead.
"
Orion
rotating." We're within 50,000 clicks now, she's turning her big fat belly to us, no guns on it's perfect white surface, trying to fool us again into firing at something we can't penetrate.
"Hold fire. Assume they've got that coated. Mr. McAdams, target all three lasers when their port guns appear, two on the center placement, one each on the bow and stern." We've got four available lasers facing.
"Aye, Skipper."
"Weapons free, fire on your mark." You may fire when ready, Gridley.
"Aye, my mark." There's a devil in her voice, I like it. It's down to who's got the quicker finger and better aim, one ship is about to die, high noon at the Omicron corral. I can see everyone in their couches, but somehow I can't hear anything, my world is one right finger poised above one control panel. We should have an old fashioned mechanical clock over a court house so we can hear the click in the middle of the street.
Lights flicker on the bridge, brighter light flares from
Orion
's side in three spots where her gun ports are. The skin of the enemy ship bows outward, a pressure change expressing itself by making art deco from the metal, then the entire port side ruptures and flies apart, looking more like a sheet of stained glass with a baseball through it than an exploding ship bulkhead. You can count the suddenly exposed storage compartments on visual from bow to stern. Half my bridge explodes in a cheer.
"Nice shooting Ensign." It's the best I can think of on short notice. "Everybody stay focused, no tricks this time."
We watch for a few seconds as the ship drifts, no thruster or engine activity, nothing to suggest they're still in the fight, no attempt to stop the rotation. If they're faking, we'll know in a second when their starboard battery, or what's left of it, comes around again.
Bass wakes me up, "Overload in progress, main reactor." He pauses for a second, "It's intentional sir, they're detonating."
"RISTA, target the reactor, fire at will. Mr. Garcia, get us out of here, maximum acceleration, all engines." If we can melt the core it will stop the detonation and let us board the ship. Otherwise, we're in some danger from a multi-megaton blast.
Takes three seconds before we are twisted and splashed against our harnesses, at least seven gees between main engine fire and thrusters changing our vector as Garcia whirls us away from
Orion
. Eyes unable to focus because of the pressure, I can make out a blur on the screen as she comes apart in that unique flash of white nuclear light. Debris will be flying after us, unknown velocity, but fast.
Once we stabilize, I replay the video. It's not like any explosion pattern I have ever seen before, McAdams must have gotten a shot off milliseconds late and the inward push of its contact with the ship met the outward explosive force. Seems to have shifted the debris pattern to our benefit, however unintentionally. Either way, no pieces big enough heading our way to do us any real harm.
Shelby has something. "Skipper,
Orion
's control cabin."
I flip my display to her's and I see what she sees. The control cabin appears to be in one piece moving away at high speed from the force of the explosion, spinning, not under anyone's control, but definitely intact as far as visual goes. The cargo containers were full, must have shielded the far end of the ship.
"Thank you First. Mr. Garcia, alter course, intercept control cabin, your course, don't ask, I'll yell if I see something I don't like."
"Intercept, aye." Her hands fly across her controls, and Yorktown, still accelerating at more than four gees, swings around. We had our original velocity vector parallel with Orion, then the unintentional course deviations caused by the weapons hits, followed by the emergency get the heck out of here maneuver. I'm glad I don't have to do the math to figure out where we're going and how to get us where we want to be.
A blue light appears on my overhead comm panel, indicating Engineering wants a private conversation.
"Mr. Garcia, engines to two gees, not to exceed unless ordered."
"Do not exceed two gees, aye." She hits her console and I weigh half what I did a second ago. The blue light goes out. I'll apologize to Lt. Powell later.
Then we rotate, stern toward the remains of
Orion
, slowing. Only
Yorktown
's two tail guns that way, but seemingly no more tricks up their sleeves, at least nothing they'll try against our two 24 inchers. The control cabin is moving away from the battle position at several hundred meters per second, spinning once every couple of seconds. Not likely anyone is alive inside. Takes 15 minutes before we're stabilized and coasting, a stone's throw from the sphere.
I get back on the intercom.
"Lt. Palmer, ready your assault team for entry into the control cabin. Get your spare team out into the debris field hunting for pieces of the hull with that coating on them, and any pieces of those 42s."
"Boarding party ready, sir. ZR ready. I'll coordinate with Sergeant Sullivan, 1st Squad in the lifting body today."
"Acknowledged. Coordinate with Commander Perez, too. I'll be joining you in five."
"Roger that."
I have another thought. "Ensign McAdams, Ensign Marcos, report to the boat deck, take the second gig. Sergeant Yeager, I'm on my way."
The two Ensigns float out of the bridge like they were shot out of one of our missile launchers. I take a loop to meet Shelby as she moves to take command.
"You don't need to go," she asks, "The Marines can handle it."
"True, but I need to see it. Smell it."
She shakes her head. "Then go over with the Marines, not in your gig."
I reach out and touch her shoulder. "Shelby, don't you remember what happened the last time I got in an assault ship with a bunch of Marines? We have to learn from our mistakes."
Her eyes give her away, they almost start laughing remembering an incident from a couple years ago. Then she shifts to that I'm going to hit you look again. Finally, she's back to being her. "Stop trying to fix me."
"Just doing my job, commander, just doing my job. The ship is yours. Anything comes our way, turn it into electrons." Then I float off to the gig.
I hear Shelby clear both Marine ships and our two Ensigns for departure while I'm on my way down, Yeager and I can take our time with everyone else already gone. As we exit the ship, we can see the ZR edging in on the spinning cabin. It takes a skilled and experienced pilot to do that well, and Palmer obviously knew what he was doing when he drafted this one for our expedition.
The assault ship has a handful to ways to deal with craft that don't want to be assaulted, or in this case, that are simply out of control. The easiest one is a rubber skid pad that will slowly use simple friction to stop the rotation. The pilot makes something look easy in reality that I had trouble with in simulation, he edges in close, then nudges the body of the spinning wreckage, which ever so slowly slows.
He never stays on long enough to overheat his ship or put it in danger, he is completely in control of the situation. Pops in gentle, rides the bronco steady as can be, slides back out to cool, then settles back in. On the sixth cycle, we're ready to go.
Once stabilized, the ZR shifts a couple meters to the left, locks on to the hull with its electo- magnets and its laser cutter opens a circular window into the cabin bulkhead. They could have used the hatch, but too many chances its booby-trapped. We listen as they enter, report all occupants down, and tell us they're opening the hatch.
McAdams and Marcos are moving in without waiting to be asked. I slow them down.
"Mr. Marcos, hold position until hatch is open."
"Hold position, aye." He can't hold his disappointment out of his voice.
I have Yeager take us down to station keep with them, and then coordinate the two ships moving in together.
Once we're out, I have words on the quiet channel with them. "Ensigns, it's probably pretty brutal inside. If you have to leave, go, do not ask."
I think they nod in response, even though they should know that nodding inside their helmets is not visible to the outside world. I let it pass, and make a hand gesture for them to lead the way.
We use our suit thrusters to get to the hatch, the Marines ready to help us inside. The two Ensigns are in when I hear Bass' voice on the command channel to Shelby.
"Small ship, accelerating away, 4.8 gee."
I call up the grid on the head's up display in my helmet. It must have been hiding in and around the cargo bays, waited until we were in a bad position to pursue, and took off. One of those little symmetric ships with the funny engine pods. Quite a high thrust to weight ratio.
"We've been had, commander, my fault. Please warn
Congress
that she's coming."
"Roger, Skipper, fooled us all."
"Everyone else is allowed to be fooled, commander, not me."
Bass is back on line. "Course and speed suggest it's heading toward the star to jump."
Shelby is incredulous. "That little ship, going to jump?"
"Affirmative sir, no other reasonable options along their flight path."
I break in. "Shelby, relay to Summerlin, do not intercept, observe and report, every instrument they have, and anything else they can think of."
"Roger, Skipper. Going to comm now."
I try to find it with my mark one eyeballs, but it's too far out, so I let the Marines help me into the ruins below and try not to dwell on another failure.
Aside from some floating garbage, the command cabin is in remarkably good shape. No real damage to the control panels or couches that I can see, human beings strapped into four of the couches, frozen completely white but otherwise undamaged.
I float around for a minute, check that the Marines are their usual skillful selves and are documenting every square inch, then float over to the nearest body. Don't recognize him, but he's definitely a he.
"Mr. Palmer, gender of the bodies?"
"All male, sir, and they all appear to have the same marks on their heads as the dead women from
Trump
."
"Copy that. Anything else I need to know right away?"
"Nothing unusual besides that. We estimate that four more people were strapped in recently and are now gone. Other couches show no signs of use."
"Thank you. You have 90 minutes to finish up in here. Get with 1st Squad and let them know they need to be docked within that time frame as well.
Yorktown
is wheels up in 120."
"That should be plenty of time sir."
I find my two Ensigns, McAdams busy with the computer, Marcos trying to help.
"You two understand that the Marines will download and/or bring the storage devices back with them?"
"Aye, Skipper, just curious." McAdams says it, Marcos stays quiet.
"Find anything?"
"Barely, sir. Every camera and recorder on board was disabled, we'll have very limited data to work with. But we did find this." She touches a playback key on the console in front of what would be the captain's couch on my ship.
It sounds like a cat being strangled in a bee hive with a banjo. Maybe five seconds, then the cat must have expired. I don't say anything, I just give her my best why did I have to listen to that look.
"It's a voice message, they transmitted that before they left. I think it's an encrypted analog message."
"Analog encryption. Analog. How many centuries has it been since we generated analog signals between ships? Three? Four?"
"Yes, sir. I'm betting it's serious encryption, maybe beyond what our computers can handle. When I figure out the algorithm, I'm going to be the richest ensign in the history of the Navy."
Gets a laugh out of me.
"Ok, if that's it, you two have 60 minutes more to play tourist. Get out of the Marines' way long before they need you to be. Understood?"
"Aye, Skipper." Both of them that time.
"Sergeant Yeager, let's go home."
We're back on
Yorktown
15 minutes later, still more than an hour til the Marines are due back. Shelby reports that 1st Squad has large pieces of the hull, but very little identifiable remains from the weapons. Not unexpected, McAdams is a good shot and the guns were her targets.
"Mr. Garcia, plot a course to Gamma Omicron 6, two gees max, no more than 20 hours thrust outbound."
"Aye, sir, course to planet 6." She sounds a little tired as she says it.
"Shelby, let's go apologize to Lt. Powell, and see where we are."
Together we float down the corridor to engineering, greeted there by a tired looking Emily Powell, I'd estimate four days of hair growth on her head.
"Lieutenant, what damage did I do this time?"
She laughs. "None sir, we're good to go, you cut back in plenty of time. We need to get the D.C. party outside and patch the hull, otherwise, every part of her that was working before the fight is working now, except for cannon number 10, and it will be back on line in about 30 hours. The LS is a piece of junk now though, no chance we can repair."
In other words, we were incredibly lucky.
"We're about to do another long accel, but once we're in freefall, get some rack time, get some personal time, make sure everybody on your crew does the same. If there are more of those monsters in our way, I need you rested and ready."
"Aye, sir." I don't think she's going to take a break, but I will monitor. Might have to order it at some point. The two days in freefall maybe.
Shelby and I float back down to the bridge and monitor the return of our expeditions. The two Ensigns get back as scheduled, then 1st Squad back onto the boat deck, and lastly the main Marine force and their ZR-1.